“Sit down,” Jake said firmly. “We’ve been over this, remember? It’s time to let them do their jobs.”
“But the mid-range!” Nerdly said. “It has to be adjusted before Celia steps out!”
“Flex sounded fine to me,” Jake said. “Celia will sound fine as well. Let your guys do their work.”
The Nerdlys sat back down, but it was under protest. “Can I at least send a note over?” Nerdly asked.
“No,” Jake said.
“Don’t be so disappointed,” Pauline told them. “Pretty soon you’ll have Brainwash to pick and probe at and to be anal about.”
“Yes,” Jake said. “I pity them already.”
Celia and her band took the stage exactly on time. The house lights went down and the stage lights remained dark. The vague silhouettes of the performers could be seen moving about the stage, getting into position. And then a single spotlight came on, lighting up the front-center of the stage, where Celia’s microphone was positioned. Celia was there, wearing, as promised in negotiations, a pair of jeans and a sleeveless blouse. Her hair was down and flowing across her shoulders. She held a Fender acoustic six-string guitar in her hands. She began to pluck out a gentle melody on it.
“Good evening, West Covina,” she said into the microphone. “Welcome to the show.”
She continued to pick out the melody, gradually increasing the tempo and power of it, finally morphing it into something solid and fully organized, something that displayed her skill with the acoustic guitar quite well. She paused at the top of a bar—obviously a cue, Laura could tell—and then the rest of the stage lights came on, revealing the rest of the primary band. At once, they launched into a song, all of them playing together. Laura had listened to a copy of Celia’s new CD (and Jake’s as well) a few times—it was, in fact, the only music she’d listened to since returning from tour—and she recognized the tune as Should We Believe?, which Jake had told her was going to be the first released for airplay.
Celia played and sang beautifully, strumming her guitar for the rhythm while belting out the sure-to-be-controversial lyrics that questioned the existence of the Christian God. Laura had never met Coop or Charlie before, but she recognized them from their pictures on the Intemperance album covers she’d seen. The baby-faced man on the lead guitar and the slightly chubby older woman on the piano were completely unfamiliar to her but were competent enough. The sound, which the Nerdlys had been agonizing over since the first note of Flex, came across as damn near perfect to her ears, with just the right volume on the vocal mics and the instruments so that every word Celia sang could be heard and every instrument being played could be distinguished from every other. It was dialed in far better than she had ever heard Z’s people accomplish even on their best day in the most favorable acoustic conditions.
After Should We Believe?, Celia and her band moved into territory that was more familiar to Laura. They played The Struggle, with Dexter Price stepping out onto the stage and laying down the saxophone parts that she had spent so many hours perfecting. He played them as they’d been recorded, his phrasing a little different than hers, perhaps, but that was to be expected. The young guitar player handled Jake’s parts, including the solo, quite nicely as well. All in all, it was a wonderful rendition of the first song she had learned in Celia’s employ. She clapped enthusiastically when it was over.
In all, Celia and the band performed almost every song on both albums during the ninety-minute set, loosely alternating between the new songs and the old ones, playing the bigger hits toward the end—with the conspicuous absence of Why?, which was her biggest hit of all and was likely being saved for the encore. Dexter was given no extended sax solo, but the young kid on the guitar was allowed to wail for about five minutes after finishing up the outro on Small Talk, one of the harder-driving pieces from the new album. They closed out the main part of the show with Playing Those Games, the breakout hard rock song from the first album—Celia abandoning her own guitar and singing into the microphone while moving back and forth on the stage.
“Thank you, West Covina!” Celia shouted into the mic when Playing was over. “Thank you and goodnight!” She and the band then left the stage but the lights stayed on. This was where the audience would be shouting for more—presumably.
Celia came back out on the stage a few minutes later, waving, carrying a twelve-string guitar in her hands. With her was the chubby piano player, but she did not go to the piano and sit down. Instead, she accompanied Celia to Celia’s microphone. The young eastern European girl who had been playing the violin during the show walked out as well and positioned herself just to the right of Celia. The young guitar player also came out, carrying his own acoustic guitar instead of an electric. Coop, Dexter and Charlie stayed backstage.
“All right,” Celia told the audience as she started to strum her guitar a little. “I guess we have time for a few more.”
With that, she began to play the melody for Why?. Laura couldn’t help but break into applause as she heard this. Though she had had no playing time on the cut, Why? had been one of her favorites on the album anyway. It was such a hypnotic, profound tune, with harmonious acoustic guitars, gentle violin, and, of course, the two-part harmony of Celia and Pauline’s voices singing the lyrics. The pianist standing next to Celia actually sounded better than Pauline, both in aesthetics and use of her voice, and the rendition was enough to almost bring tears to Laura’s eyes.
After Why?, Coop and Charlie came back out while the guitarist swapped back to an electric and the pianist returned to her instrument. They then played a song from Celia’s days with La Diferencia: Carabobo, which, Laura knew, was one of the few songs that Celia had penned back then that had been included on one of the albums. Since Aristocrat had been La Diferencia’s label, they were allowing her to perform La Dif songs—had, in fact, tried to pressure her to play some of the bigger hits like I Love To Dance—but Celia refused to do anything she had not written. The rendition they did now sounded considerably better than the studio version, probably because the musicians and the sound were both better.
The final song of the encore was Done With You, another one of Laura’s absolute favorites. She had happy, vivid memories of putting this tune down up in Oregon, playing the dueling solos with Mary on her electric violin while Jake and Celia laid down the backing rhythm with their guitars. Dexter and the young eastern-European looking violinist did considerable justice to the outro, expanding upon the dueling solos for the better part of three minutes before finally winding up the tune in a flurry of instruments punctuated by one last repetition of the chorus that was drawn out by Celia.
“Yes!” Laura yelled happily, standing up and clapping enthusiastically as the musicians came to the front of the stage to take their bows. Nor was she the only one. It had been a great show and the applause was quite real and heartfelt.
“All right!” Jake said to the audience once the house lights came back up. “That’s the show we’re going with. Was it badass, or what?”
“Outstanding!” Pauline said. “They’re going to kill them!”
“Hear, hear!” Greg agreed. “That was my wife up there, and she was amazing!”
“A premium performance,” Nerdly said. “Although, in truth, I think if we adjusted the medium range on the...”
“Shut up, Nerdly,” Jake barked at him. “They’re dialed in. The guys did a great job on the sound.